A classic case of Unstoppable Destiny meets Percival Graves
by inslupbanana
Summary: At 16 years old some wizarding folk gain the ability to contact their soulmate by writing on their own skin, as the same message then appears on their soulmates skin. Percival Graves never believed that the universe created people destined for each other and even if he did he's far too busy with Auror training for a Soulmate. Then Newt Happens.
1. Percival's Room - Soulmates not allowed

Chapter 1: Percival's room- Soulmates not allowed

Chapter Text

Percival's childhood was not particularly remarkable but had somehow resulted in a constant and often rather pessimistic mind-set. He had always thought of himself as rather sensible, though his mother had other words for it, and it was for this reason that he decided, at the tender age of 12, that the addition of a soulmate to his already rather busy and complicated life would merely be an unnecessary annoyance. He reasoned that if he thought this way then surely the Universe would understand and would therefore not give him a soulmate.

(Much later he would reflect upon this reasoning with a kind of despairing wonder at the hopeful logic of a young boy whose future had somehow always been set in a direction opposite to the one he had so carefully planned.)

This line of reasoning did noticeably separate him from many of his classmates, most of whom were too taken in by the whole romantic ideal of soulmates to truly understand the impact a soulmate could have on an already well ordered lifestyle. Most were also hesitant to acknowledge the strain of having to stay together purely because so many believed that you should. Percival however understood this all too well, having witnessed his parents failed attempts to keep their marriage together for his sake. Eventually their faith in their soulmate bond lost out and the two separated ways on terrible terms.

Seraphina Picquery therefore was a welcome breath of fresh air from the dull mind-set of others. She too was from an early age very career focused and being only two years older than Percival had taken the talented young boy under her wing.

Percival did at times wonder if his ambitious views and his obstinacy in writing off the idea of a soulmate was a mistake and perhaps he could have succeeded where his parents had failed. However he later realised the futility of thinking like this as such a thing would likely never happen. His mother, despite her own lost love, despaired at the thought of her little boy growing up with such a pessimistic view of the world, having given up on romance so early. Percival told her that he knew he would someday be an Auror, and despite the coldness of it, the mateless were often given greater consideration for such a dangerous job. This did not reassure his mother, only serving to worry her further but Percival had made up his mind and she knew that the chances of anyone overturning his decision were less then slim.

As Percival grew up throughout his years at Ilvermony most of his classmates continued to scorn him but as his magical talent became obvious their teasing lessened, his career path became a certainty and thoughts of a soulmate were forgotten. His view was only solidified further when at sixteen Seraphina received no indication of a soulmate. Despite views that her soulmate could be younger than her and so unable to reply back for a number of years, the two had even held a small celebration to the shock and disgust of many students who were (in their minds) disappointedly mateless.

Two years later and even with many reassurances from Seraphina and his own stubborn certainty, Percival still felt an unusual nervousness at the prospect of his upcoming sixteenth birthday. He despite his own beliefs did, because it was proper, write a simple greeting on his skin with the gilded ink pen all sixteen year olds customarily received from their closest family member. Twenty-four hours later with no reply and a large amount of relief (and perhaps deep down the tiniest hint of disappointment) Percival sent his early application to MACUSA with the good wishes of Seraphina, who had already been promised a minor position in government. His anticipation of the reply was, as expected, greater even than his anticipation of a possible soulmate so when the returning message was positive, Percival was more pleased then he had ever been. Due to his likely mateless status and extremely high grades Percivial was told he would still have to participate in an entrance exam at eighteen but he was pretty much guaranteed a place within the revered Auror ranks.

Therefore with a certain future and few close, stable relationships (noticeably Seraphina) Percival removed the last vestiges of uncertainty and dedicated his whole being to achieving that which he believed he was born to do.

Later on though, after his exams, at his graduation and upon his acceptance as an Auror, though he admitted it to no-one, not even truly to himself Percival did perhaps wonder if the whole experience would have been more joyful or easier or maybe in someway better if he had had someone else to share his delight with. However as he had done when he was younger and as he would continue to do so he buried his doubts in amongst the knowledge of a career in which he could make a difference, a future as bright as it could be. To him his lack of a soulmate was not a weakness as many liked to believe, but a strength he could draw upon.


	2. Newt has never been good with people

Newt has never been very good with people

Summary:

Newt's life wasn't brilliant but he's always had his creatures. Maybe he'll never have more then that but his brother has always said to never give up hope.

Chapter Text

Throughout Newt's life the possibility of there being someone out there who was fated to be with him was both an exciting prospect and a terrifying one. His parents were both in the same year at Hogwarts and so had met before their sixteenth birthdays. Though they weren't originally close it had taken mere hours after their bond had formed for them to find one another and realise the truth. From then on it had been the typical soulmate whirlwind romance and they married less than a year later. His parents loving relationship however, wasn't quite enough to disprove the lesson that life was gradually teaching him.

Newt was an excitable child with a strange passion for magical creatures and what his brother, Theseus, liked to call a few 'odd eccentricities'. As he grew though he soon realised that, in comparison, his people skills were greatly lacking. He lived in an area that was largely inhabited by wizarding families but the other children were less than friendly towards him.

Long before his arrival at Hogwarts the other children's bullying ways had transformed him from an almost outgoing child into a shy awkward soul, with only his creatures for comfort as Theseus, being older, had already gone.

Newt wished desperately for many years that someone would be able to see past his rather odd ways and like him for who he was. His hope of being granted a soulmate ran alongside this wish and for a long while, during the worst moments of bullying he clung to the idea that someone someday would be his friend.

However children are cruel and as Newt got older (and perhaps stranger in the eyes of others) the taunts became crueller still. The thing that hurt the most, the phrase repeatedly drilled into his mind again and again squashed his hope so very well. 'You're a freak' they used to say 'and no one will ever love a freak like you'. If he tried to argue that his family loved him they always replied 'yeah but you'll never have a soulmate, never because you're such a freak!'. While the claim wasn't particularly inventive it was exceedingly hurtful and so when Newt did depart to Hogwarts the sense of relief at escaping the taunts was overshadowed by his aching loneliness.

Then came Leta Lestrange. She had found him funny when he had bumped into her while reading and knocked them both over as they were boarding the Hogwarts express. She was talkative enough to fill in any gaps in conversation and by the time the train reached the castle the two were fast friends.

Hogwarts was better for Newt in many ways but worse in others. His brother was here and Leta was kind to him but the bullies were older, crueller and far more talented at causing pain. Newt found that he didn't care quite as much now though; he finally had someone who liked him and sometimes even tried to defend him. It was for this reason that his first four years at Hogwarts were some of the best he had ever had. Leta usually didn't mind the injured creatures he kept in his pockets, she didn't really notice his more awkward mannerisms and she often didn't care about his habit of ignoring her in order to focus more intensely on his creatures. Though Leta did sometimes get him into trouble, dragging him out after curfew and tricking him into annoying teachers it was all in good fun.

Newt found that life with Leta was simpler, easier to bear and gradually his belief that he one day could have a soulmate grew back. If Leta liked him then maybe there was someone else out there who could, someone who would be tolerant of his obsession with magical beasts, who would even enjoy his passion for studying them and understand his need to care for them.

As Newt grew this fascination with magical creatures only increased. Creatures were so simple in their needs but often so intelligent and far easier to form relationships with then humans, something Newt had always had trouble with.

However this all changed when his blindness towards others when his creatures were involved eventually caused the trouble his father had always warned it would. Young Newt had never seen a Unicorn but had always wanted to and because of this, when he was older, Leta had convinced him the easiest way to find one would be to sneak into the forbidden forest. He entered the forest periodically throughout his fourth and fifth years in search of his dream find until eventually he found something drastically different.

It wasn't a full moon so Newt had known at once that it wasn't a werewolf but the beauty of the creature and the pained whimpers it had released had drawn him to its side before he had even realised. Later he would curse himself for his stupidity in not thinking through his actions but even then he would not regret healing the creature. He would however regret the fact he brought the wolf into the castle.

Strangely it wasn't until weeks later that anything went wrong. After he had healed her to the best of his abilities the white wolf had merely regarded him in a slightly suspicious way before falling sleep upon the cushion in the Room of Requirement where he had placed her. He left her in the room and went to fetch her supplies of food and water, planning to release her when she was fully healed.

In hindsight, after Newt had been cast from Hogwarts with his wand only whole due to pleading words from Dumbledore, he would realise he had placed too much trust in her. But she was his first friend, his only friend and when he told her it had been in excitement at the beauty of the wolf. He could never have imagined that she would take it upon herself to release the wolf inside the castle and guide the animal to his bullies, enticing her to deliberately harm them. When the wolf had very nearly killed them, despite Leta's betrayal he understood that she thought she was helping him and so he had taken the blame, knowing her dark family would punish her far worse than his own consequent expulsion.

It was this way at the age of fifteen that Newt once again given up in his belief, with no OWLs he had no future and with no Hogwarts he had lost his friend and most of his creatures. His parents persuaded him to take odd jobs within the muggle community to save up for a future of travel, so maybe one day he would have the chance to help magical creatures globally. He focused himself as much as possible and pushed to do his best for the beings that had always been a comfort for him. His heart still wasn't quite in it though as there was no way anyone would want him anymore. He had been strange enough to begin with and now with the possibility of an upcoming war, what kind of wizard would want a disgraced soulmate who could barely do magic?

A few months later it was his sixteenth birthday and while his magical talent had improved due to Theseus' teachings and his income was actually quite positive his hope was still long gone. With no wish to further disappoint his parents he had decided to do the usual soulmate ceremony in private, so for the customary twenty-four hours he could sit there preparing himself to break the news gently to his parents.

With a sigh, Newt picked up his quill and scrawled a quick message upon his arm, perhaps subconsciously pushed by a small spark of hope.

 _Hello? Is anyone there?_


	3. It wasn't supposed to happen like this

Chapter 3: It wasn't supposed to happen like this

Summary:

Percival's job is currently less interesting then he had hoped but change could be right around the corner.

Notes:

Sorry about any mistakes or parts that don't make much sense, I've had too much coffee to proof read this properly :P Enjoy though!

Chapter Text

Percival was frustrated. His easy rise through the ranks wasn't happening quite as quickly as he would have liked, his boss was on his ass about the mediocre job he was doing and worst of all his favourite No-Maj coffee shop was closed. Currently there wasn't anywhere else nearby where he could get a good coffee and no quick way for him to improve his working situation.

Being a junior Auror he was assigned a much older partner to mentor him but all Joe was useful for was showing him the simplest ways to skip doing important paperwork. And of course that mostly meant just giving the damn paperwork to Percival. It was supposed to be character building for a young wizard to be assigned all the mundane tasks in a partnership but it was really just a way for the older guys to shove most of their jobs onto someone else's shoulders whilst still getting credit for the more important and often action-related aspects. No matter his talent and his notable ancestry he had yet to be given a chance to prove himself and so to the higher-ups was just another face in the masses. On top of this Percival was getting dangerously close to doing his partner permanent damage if something didn't change soon.

This rather dismal train of thought was then interrupted as the man himself entered the bull-pen.

'Y'alright Percy?'

'Don't call me that' Percival muttered through gritted teeth

'Well lad you can stop your sulking the big boss says we can go home early today, makes a nice change eh?' Joe patted him on the back, laughing as the younger man practically growled at him, before scooping up his jacket and wandering off towards the exit. Sighing Percival stood and copied the action, if he was allowed then he figured he might as well get some rest before his next day of utter boredom.

His polished shoes clicked as he quickly made his way out through the winding corridors, his usual solemn look firmly in place. No matter his current station in life he was still a Graves and appearances had to be maintained. He was idly considering what his parents would think if he rebelled against this notion when he spotted Seraphina approaching from the opposite direction.

'Percival'

'Seraphina'

'Fancy seeing you here at this time' She grinned in a rather shark-like manner as Percival rolled his eyes

'Well we do both work here'

Seraphina reached over and gently placed a hand on his arm 'You know what I meant and in all seriousness Percival you've complained to me enough that I feel I need to ask, you have been allowed to leave now haven't you?'

Rather than dignifying that with a reply he shot an exasperated look at her before shrugging her hand off and continuing his determined passage towards the exit. Once outside he took a welcome breath of fresh air before spinning on the spot, apparating into a secluded alleyway only a few feet from his apartment.

The back of Percival's neck tingled as he approached his front door but he shrugged off the strange feeling, along with his coat, upon entering his home. It had been a normal, boring day but for some reason he was more tired than usual and since it wasn't likely he was going to be called back into the office he decided to forego his usual coffee in favour of having a meal and then going to bed.

His apartment wasn't particularly big, a single bedroomed area with a small kitchen but he had lived here for four years, having moved out of the Graves Estate at 18, and he had become rather attached to it. Percival didn't like to think he had been spoiled but his family were rich and rather well-known in wizarding circles so he was used to a certain level of comfort, his entrance into the Auror programme (even though he was a descendant of one of the twelve) was seen by some as unnecessary since he would easily be able to live on his parent's money once he reached 25. However since he had yet to receive his inheritance the small living quarters allowed him to afford the often rather expensive clothing that he was so fond of.

Removing his waistcoat Percival slumped down onto a chair at the little four-seater dining table and, lacking the energy to make a large meal, absent-mindedly waved his hand causing yesterday's leftovers to come floating out of the cooler. Another wave and a glass of water along with the appropriate cutlery arranged themselves neatly on the table. Wandless magic wasn't a common sight these days but Percival had always been rather good at that sort of thing. With a smirk he lifted his fork only to suddenly feel a strange itching sensation on his left arm. Worried that Florence down in the Experimental Curses department had accidentally released something into the offices again he rolled up his sleeve only to fall sideways off his chair in shock.

' _Hello? Is anyone there?'_

No. There was no way this could be happening. It had been six years. SIX YEARS. This wasn't supposed to happen, he wanted to be an Auror soon not tied down to someone he didn't even know. At this point his breath was coming in short, shallow gasps and his head was buzzing with all the possibilities. What if it was actually someone he knew? What if it was someone he didn't like? He didn't want this, he had never wanted this and 'the universe' or whatever _was supposed to know that_. He wasn't the kind of person who wanted or needed anyone else, he was an Auror, a warrior and his first thought would always be his job.

At that exact moment his wand began to glow and a strange wailing sound filled the air, the emergency alarm signalling certain Aurors to return to the MACUSA building immediately. Grateful for the distraction but wishing he had drunk some coffee after all, Percival resolved to worry about his soulmate later as he pulled himself together enough to grab his coat and disapparate through his own wards in a swirl of clothing.


	4. Soulmate? Nope never heard of it

Chapter 4: Soulmate? Nope never heard of it.

Summary:

In which Percival does his best to deny everything and Newt does his best to carry on.

Chapter Text

Newt let out a rather hysterical giggle as he viewed the lonely words on his arm. The one thing in his life that was supposed to be certain, the one thing he couldn't stop himself hoping for and of course it wasn't going to happen because that's how everything always turned out for him.

When he thought he'd finally found a place at Hogwarts, the school just as weird and wonderful as he'd always imagined, he'd been kicked out. When he thought he'd finally found a true friend she'd said nothing when he'd taken the fall for her. And now, the moment destiny was supposed to finally come through for him, nothing.

Absolutely _nothing_ had happened.

Percival really couldn't afford to be put off right now, not by the still surprising throbbing on his arm or the words that had burned themselves into his mind. He was of course far too professional to let himself be distracted by such trivial things, especially when he was in the middle of a rather difficult duel.

The smugglers were surprisingly proficient at duelling for people stupid enough to be caught because they didn't notice the **No-Maj** gang taking items from their warehouse. Percival scoffed at the very idea, managing to disarm one of the idiots while the other Aurors who'd been called out were struggling to bind the final three.

With a quick flick of his wand Percival confiscated the illegal materials and nodded to the rest before apparating back to MACUSA. While perhaps a strange move they didn't know exactly what was being smuggled and it was better he put the oddly shaped cases somewhere they could be checked out before returning to aid his fellow Aurors. Upon doing so however he found it to be futile as the fight was clearly over and five of the Aurors were preparing to disapparate.

It turned out though that his partner had helpfully volunteered him for the boring mess of clean-up work that was obliviating the No-Majs and making sure no others had noticed anything untoward about the warehouse. As his adrenaline rush faded Percival determinedly continued to ignore the itching on his arm and prepared himself for the long night ahead.

Several hours later after what had indeed been a long night Percival was changing into his sleeping garments, still determinedly denying the burn of the writing on his arm, when he made the mistake of actually looking down and discovering that whoever his soulmate this person was, they were clearly desperate.

 _Hello?_

 _Please?_

 _There's got to be someone there, there has to be. Please._

 _Just give me this, for once just give me this._

'Sorry' Percival thought 'but this isn't how it goes'. With this in mind he forced down the guilt that was beginning to claw its way up his throat and flipped on to his side in bed, preparing to sleep.

With the recent and rather hectic events of the night it seemed his career was finally beginning to take off and he wasn't going to allow a soulmate stranger to ruin that for him.

Becoming an Auror, protecting the magic populace and fighting for a better future was always how his life was supposed to go, that was how he had planned it to be and Percival always was far too stubborn to let anything change his plans.

Arriving at work the next day Percival was both inwardly and outwardly confident, he'd proven himself to the higher ups as a good duellist during his first raid, he'd found a solution to his 'problem' and he was ready to push ahead with his life. Bolstering his mood was the fact that soon enough he'd be rid of Joe as a 'mentor' and he'd be able to prove himself further as the leader he knew he could be.

He was also intelligent enough to know that not everyone appreciated the confidence he was prone to showing as many mistook it for arrogance and stupidity. Percival however was confident in his abilities as a highly intelligent and adept wizard and yet self aware enough to know his limits and what was best for himself.

No matter what his mother, or even Seraphina at times, said about companionship he'd always known he'd get further in life then the rest of his classmates because he always had been and always would be completely career focussed.

A slight grin overtook his face, causing another Junior Auror to actually do a double-take at the sight, as he strode through the MACUSA building towards the Auror offices and towards what he was certain would be a shining future.

Unbeknownst to Percival though, on the other side of the world Newt was feeling rather less secure about his future. His pleas had clearly gone unanswered and as of now he was a destined-to-be-lonely wizard with zero qualifications.

However as shy and anxious he seemed Newt never had been one to give up and he'd always been rather more fond of animal companionship then human companionship- certainly that couldn't change now.

Pushing himself off the floor Newt grabbed the second-hand suitcase with its simple expansion charms (it had been a birthday gift from his brother) and resolved that even if he couldn't have a soulmate he would still do the best he could with his life.

Newt may have been 16 but he was a Hufflepuff, hardworking in his own eccentric way and highly intelligent, he was going to learn as much as he could about magical creatures, study them, help them and be a magizooloogist as he'd always wanted.

War may still be in the future but Newt knew where his talents lay and subconsciously he'd been preparing himself for a life of travel for a while now.

He'd been expelled but he'd kept his wand, he knew how to apparate and he was sure his father kept a wizarding tent somewhere. The Scamander family weren't exactly poor, surprisingly even with his often clumsy nature he'd always been good on a broomstick and he'd quite literally been brought up alongside hippogriffs so he had a few travel methods available (if he could do the disillusionment charm).

He'd never been the type to plan or think things through completely but he knew his goal and clearly he had enough options. With what felt like his last hope at happiness sparking inside him he gathered his favourite books and disapparated to the Leaky Cauldron in London, eager to avoid his family's questions.

Upon arrival, exhausted by the days emotions but slowly gaining confidence in his new life path the young boy man paid for the night and settled down to sleep, rousing only once to write a quick reminder to owl his family lest they worry.

He now knew he didn't have a soulmate so who would care what strange things he scribbled on his arm in the dead of night.

 _Buy paper- tell Father about tent-tell Mother took Ben-hills or forest next_


	5. Chapter 5- What on earth is a niffler

Okay what. No honestly what. What hidden message could this possibly contain? Last time he had checked his soulmate this person was desperately calling out and now they're... writing reminders? Really strange reminders at that, Percival found himself simultaneously confused, annoyed and a little bit amused. This wasn't supposed to keep happening, he had fixed this problem and it was not going to interfere with his future. Yesterday he had been told for certain that he was soon to be promoted, having showed great initiative in taking potentially volatile and dangerous materials away after confirming that aiding his fellow Aurors would be unnecessary. Seraphina had promised him she was dragging him away to celebrate when they were both off work, which to be fair probably wouldn't be anytime soon as she was streaking ahead in her career path at an even faster pace than he was. Once again (in a manner he would soon see to be futile) Percival attempted to push any thoughts of words and soulmates out of his mind and proceeded to prepare himself for another hard day at work. Which, despite the fact he had to do it every day, was never too boring as an Auror.

This idle thought was later proved true when he was sent on an undercover assignment for the first time, as a desperate young man who needed to buy unicorn blood for his dying wife/soulmate from one of the most notorious potions ingredients smugglers in the whole of the states. Now Percival may not always have been the best at expressing his emotions but his position and want to create a mask had made him a strangely good actor when necessary and the assignment was pulled off without hitch. Oddly though afterwards the tactician in charge had commented on the brilliance of the almost unnoticeable and absentminded scratching of his 'soulmate' arm that had perhaps in hindsight sold the whole act when his story seemed a little thin. For one of the few times in his life another person had the opportunity to see Percival genuinely speechless before he managed to gather his wits about him and once again become a Graves. It was true though, his arm had been burning the whole day but through sheer force of will he had stopped himself from looking at it though perhaps the itch would have ceased if he had done so. Either way when Percival did check he once again found himself in those three states of being that he would soon come to recognise as his new norm. Seriously, what did half of these words even mean?

 _owl again_

 _forest-sherwood_

 _gold-niffler!-eat?_

 _bowtruckles-habitats-painful to separate- lice?_

 _camp where?-move soon_

Newt had so far found it much more practical to use the rather recent muggle invention of ballpoint pens on his arm rather then carry around a wizarding quill and parchment all day. Most wizards (especially pure bloods) would never think of such a simple thing but convenience always was far more efficient than tradition. It was a good thing that Newt was extremely good at Care of Magical Creatures and had eagerly pursued knowledge of the subject using the sparse literature available otherwise he'd be very out of his depth in a forest as strongly magical as Sherwood. As it was Newt was having a massively entertaining time, using his natural instincts where his knowledge failed him and automatically filling in the gaps in his learning as he went along. He was also planning on owling Theseus and asking him to send him books on more advanced expansion charms as his arm wasn't going to suffice for long. Just being out there for a day and having to use no magic (other then quick apparition spells) had taught Newt more about how to care for magical creatures then most adult wizards knew. He'd willingly given a niffler a gold coin and seemingly the small creature had become attached to him because of it, happily procuring itself a small space in the suitcase as Newt gave him a few more trinkets to play with. The start of this journey might seem odd to any other person but Newt generally seemed odd to any other person as proved by the few hours he'd spent today just watching the habits of unsuspecting simple woodland creatures and writing them down (he really needs paper soon.)

 _baby hedgehogs-don't take from mother_

 _grey squirrels population far outgrowing red_

 _foxes!_

 _shudslepnwtent?_

Newt found that waking up the next morning was refreshingly easy but annoyingly painful as he'd apparently fallen asleep in the crook of a tree branch and then fallen out. The harvest mouse delicately sniffing his nose appeared just as confused as Newt felt by this sudden development, though it gave an alarmed squeak as Newt groaned, and then scuttled off. Deciding that today was probably a good day to set up a camp somewhere remote he disapparated deeper into the forest and opened his case. Apparently he'd forgotten the extent of his sleepy discoveries as he had somehow converted the inside of the case into a small room without actually knowing any spells for it. Ben was comfortable in one corner, his owl set up in a cage in another, a small desk next to her that just appeared to be a few randomly hewn logs that fit together surprisingly well and the other side of the room was filled with too-small cages containing for some reason both muggle-known and magical beasts. Resolving to create bigger areas for them (as soon as he figured how he'd done it in the first place) he decided against using the tent and instead pulled out the small but softly furnished bed from inside it. For some reason no magical authorities had appeared to trace his ill thought out magic-perhaps Theseus knew him better then he'd expected and had planned for this eventuality. Waving his wand and using his still limited charms knowledge he discovered that yes- pretty much anything inside this suitcase would be completely undetectable to anyone. Perhaps not the most legal spell but Newt always had been an exception to his brother's rules.


	6. Chapter 6- His Soulmate is crazy

**Chapter Text**

Once again Percival found himself bewildered by the complete and utter nonsense that was finding its way onto his arm. He'd been trying to ignore it, he really had, but it just wouldn't stop. Even the ever-stupid Joe had commented on his now incessant scratching. He'd been sure whoever it was had given up (a constant guilty weight in the back of his mind) so why were they still writing on their arm? Had they never heard of paper?

As Percival was contemplating this he was writing (on paper like a normal person) yet another report on the gradually increasing attacks on No-Majs around the city. Wizards seemed to be becoming progressively more idiotic as they now somehow believed that No-Majs were both a threat and yet at the same time completely defensive to magical attacks. This of course was not the case in America as lots of the population favoured guns, thus leading to Percival continually having to write a monstrous number of incident reports. Weirdly enough Percival had developed a strange fondness for these reports during his time at MACUSA, however irritating the topic matter. This was because the days when there was enough time to produce and file reports were usually the days that things ran most smoothly in the Auror department.

These days were his favourite as it ensured his routine went equally smoothly (the other Aurors didn't take long to realise that interrupting Percival's routine was equivalent to signing their own death warrant.) While Percival himself had increased in importance due to the fact that (finally!) he had been promoted to senior author his death glare had been a formidable thing since birth, according to his mother. He felt more than a little smug as that thought crossed his mind, he may have been an odd child but very rarely did anyone dare tell him that.

With a sigh Percival stretched, pulling over the next pile of reports as his mind turned to a more relevant topic-his promotion. Being a senior Auror was both better and worse than he had hoped for, better because he was no longer anyway near Joe and so only needed to do his own work and worse because this workload had massively increased. To be fair though he did find himself enjoying his work a lot more now, helped by the fact he was gaining more recognition from the department as a whole due to the fact he was one of their youngest and most useful members. Percival found himself weekly in duels or on raids as his case closure rate neared record levels. Seraphina too found herself enjoying much personal success as she quickly became the highest-ranking female government member.

Sadly though neither found much time to celebrate these achievements (they did go out for drinks at first) due to the growing threat of war in Europe between both wizards and No-Majs. Much of this seemed to stem from the trouble Grindlewald and his worringly large following were causing, though of course the No-Majs didn't know this and so had taken to blaming each other as humans are wont to do. Percival irritatingly enough was more disturbed by this news then he previously would have been due to his new soulmate problem. Reluctant as he was to acknowledge the words now appearing on his arm he couldn't erase the fact that the words were probably just appearing because his soulmate they were 17 at most. Of course he didn't want to meet them as they weren't supposed to exist but he didn't want this lack of meeting to be because they had been killed. No matter his personal feelings towards whoever this stranger was he didn't want them to die so young and alone.

Halfway across the globe Newt was currently having the time of his life. He was free! No boundaries, no rules and all the time to do whatever he wanted. Admittedly boundaries were probably something he needed right now, very curious and exceedingly clumsy was never a good combination and so Newt had already accumulated a rather extensive collection of scratches. Most of these were of course to do with his reluctance to harm the creatures he was so keen to study - He loved both magical and non-magical animals but he was just learning how to best approach them and so may have startled a few.

It didn't really matter though because (possibly for the first time ever) he was just so happy. This is what he had been born to do, he knew it, Theseus had seen it, heck he was pretty sure everyone noticed it about him. Newt was such an odd awkward being in the eyes of humans but even at sixteen he was a natural with beasts. Contact with Theseus had been established via his owl and so Newt had now greatly enlarged his repertoire of spells and his case had actually become the size of a small house . He had no need to build proper habitats yet as the creatures he was keeping were mainly temporary because he wanted to study them but he wasn't like most, he would never rip them away from their home just because he could. Currently he still had a corner for his desk and bed but most of the holders were empty and Ben now had a tiny wooded area all to himself. The only other occupant of the case (excluding Newt himself and his owl) was an injured baby thestral whose pack he had yet to find and so Theseus was also in the process of sending him raw meat.

Waving at Ben on the way past Newt finally realised he should probably sleep as his legs were thoroughly aching just from walking a few steps. Deciding it was probably unnecessary to change his clothes as he hadn't actually brought many with him he lowered himself onto his thin bunk and tried to imagine what he could do in the future. His brother had been warning him of the unrest in both worlds but Newt was just doing what he wanted right now, he needed to build his skills to eventually help the creatures no one cared about. Perhaps if there was a war (and he was called up) he could somehow put this soon-to-be-found knowledge to use? He didn't know really but with his lack of education there weren't many positions that would accept him, not that he wanted them. Disliking the uncertainty of the future of the small life he was building for himself Newt buried deeper into his bed and pulled the thin cover over his head in an attempt to stop the thoughts. Luckily his brain caught up with his body and a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him as he began to drift off.

He sat up suddenly, 'Merlin's Pants!'

He'd forgotten to ask Theseus for paper!


	7. Chapter 7- So it begins

Even Newt knew by now that something was happening. It was 28th June 1914, he was sixteen years old and the Archduke Franz Ferdinand had just been assassinated. War was coming. Perhaps in a week, perhaps in a month but soon, definitely soon. It wasn't fair really as he'd just begun to enjoy his life, starting to do the things he'd always wanted.

Newt knew it was likely now, due to his brokenness, that he would always be devoid of human companionship but he'd built himself a family despite this. He never did find Thrall's parents but he had managed to steal rescue a few adult thestrals from passing beast smugglers (he was only a boy, still easily able to avoid suspicion) and they'd happily taking the youngling under wing. From these same smugglers he'd also acquired a rather mischievous Niffler though it was (surprisingly) through no fault of his own. His case had expanded due to help from Theseus, though he'd received the bare minimum of paper because out here in the wild amongst some of the most dangerous magical beasts Theseus was somehow worried he'd give himself _papercuts_ of all things (Seriously though he'd actually written that.) Newt had then decided that in his next letter he would leave out the fact he was currently on a (scarily successful) hunt for manticores.

Hmm perhaps he'd say he'd found harmless lambs or something, that should make Theseus happy. Or maybe unicorns, notoriously pure, what could go wrong? Which is a phrase Newt remembers he should never think, say or even begin to dream about, considering what's happened so many times before. He can still recall the many times he'd thought that, terrible things were then guaranteed to happen and Theseus would have to go around making excuses for him.

'Oh my little brother has somehow gone and freed your terribly abused family elves Mr Black sir? Oh we're very sorry but he's a curious child and its not his fault.'

'Oh a five year old boy somehow released the newts you were breeding purely for potions ingredients Mrs Lestrange? Ah well he thought they were like him, you see he's a bit touched in the head.' His parents had found that one both mildly amusing and very worrying.

Best of all though was the time he was invited to the renowned Malfoy Manor: 'No I think you're imagining things sir. It couldn't possibly be my eight year old brother that let himself into the quarters of one of your revered guests and freed the caged Cornish pixies then escaped. No that must have been a dream of course sir, I mean how would that work anyway? Oh he persuaded them to take him with them when they flew off? And you literally saw Newt Scamander flying through the air surrounded by manically laughing fae? Lovely vivid imagination sir. Just lovely' Newt's pretty sure his mother fainted after hearing that one.

Thinking about it perhaps that's the reason Theseus worries about inane little things such as paper cuts, because he knows by now that wherever there's trouble Newt is usually already the (very innocent) centre of it. On the other hand what's the point in worrying about Newt getting a paper cut when its far more likely a whole damn tree will just fall on him for no reason? Actually it seems likely that the little things are Theseus' only way of clinging to any form of sanity at this point. (Oops.)

And his thoughts are wandering... again. Back to the point war was coming, the world was woefully underprepared and Newt just didn't know what to do about it. Theseus was getting more and more worried, having repeatedly sent letters with tracking spells attached (though fortunately Newt knew his brother far too well at this point and had remembered enough to disable them.) He also knew there were millions of people out there desperately finding family and friends to cling to in dangerous times while he was frustratingly alone. Yeah of course he had an irritatingly overprotective older brother (who would probably be on the front line whatever happened) but it wasn't the same, Theseus didn't need him really and could never truly understand him. Newt had hoped for so long that there would be someone out there who'd share half his soul, who wouldn't mind his shyness or his oddities but those wishes had been crushed by the consistent lack of reply. He was mateless, alone and unwanted in a world on the brink of war, with creatures he loved but wasn't entirely sure what to do with and a life he was only just beginning to create. He wasn't ready.

Over 3000 miles away Percival's thoughts (though he refused to believe it) were strangely enough running along pretty similar lines. MACUSA, while uncertain of muggle involvement in the war, were currently preparing themselves for the fight against Grindlewald and Percival himself was ready. He had prepared himself to be an Auror his whole life and had always known he would die on the job, the prospect of a war merely heightening these chances. He only had one remaining family member, his mother whom he loved dearly but he always had been willing to fight for America and fight is what he would do. Percival Graves was an Auror first and foremost and during the upcoming war his duty is all he would worry about.

However there was something even he was incapable of preparing himself for, fate the universe making a mistake. His current (Seraphina would claim it was unhealthy but she was no better) mindset clearly showed he wasn't supposed to have a significant other of any kind. And yet because magic fucked up there was now a 16 year old out there somewhere he'd already hurt, even though it's not his problem, who could die at any moment believing themselves mateless. Which honestly they were anyway because what good was he? His lack of response had already proved their incompatibility and really why should he care? But they're so young. No

He didn't care

Really he didn't

That's why he wasn't picking up his pen and preparing to write...

That's why he wasn't pressing the pen to his skin,

Why he wasn't screwing up his face in determination, preparing to do the one thing he'd promised himself he wouldn't

'GRAVES'

Oh, it was his boss striding into the office and rather angry by the looks of it. Thank goodness, just in time to stop him from making a terrible mistake. Percival stood, quickly stowing the pen in his inner jacket pocket, he wasn't some sappy mated idiot he was an _Auror_ and he had a job to do.


	8. Chapter 8- Depths of Denial

**Chapter Text**

Percival slammed the door shut behind him, relieved to hear the familiar creaking sound that occurred, now present after a few too many similar occasions. That was the first time he had heard that sound in three days, the first time he had entered his own apartment in three days and soon to be the first time he would sleep in three days. The whole week had already been a nightmare with the stress of the war, this last case and now his close call with his soulmate arm-writing-person-thing. Damn it. He was so tired he couldn't even be bothered to properly deny it any more. He was so good at denying things though, seriously how fucking tired must he be that he is mentally incapable of drowning in his favourite river? And now he's even thinking of himself far too existentially and just in a thoroughly weird manner. Right, time for bed. Oh hang on, even in his almost Spartan apartment his bed is far too far away for him to reach, this is a nice comfy chair though… he doesn't remember sitting down…he doesn't remember the chair being this comfy… in fact he usually hates it because it gives him…

"Backache!" he grumbled. Oh not again, he promised himself he wouldn't do that again, last time he was feeling the effects for weeks afterward. Blinking and rubbing sleep from his eyes he forced himself to wake up. Oh well it was too late now, quite late actually judging by the fact the sun had just come up when he had gotten in and it was now dark outside. Huh, even with the stupid chair he must have been out for a solid eight hours, that doesn't happen very often.

Standing up Percival groaned as he stretched his arms above his head and felt his shoulders cracking. That case had been too damn long and too damn stressful. At first when his boss had called him, he had assumed the anger was because he wasn't concentrating on his work but it turned out it was in fact because someone had walked right into a muggle bank and murdered over twenty people without so much as blinking and then walked right out. While they knew straight away the crime would be related to Grindlewald the serious worry had been that it would be the man himself and war would come sooner to America then they expected.

Luckily (if that could be said with so many dead) it wasn't the man himself but a deranged follower, the Obliviators had arrived on the scene quick enough to prevent word of the incident spreading, they had caught the perpetrator after a two day chase and all in all the whole thing had been managed rather nicely if he did say so himself. Unluckily however twenty people were still dead, both magical and muggle America was in uproar and the situation in Europe was clearly worsening. As he struggled to pour himself a pot of coffee Percival contemplated the fact that while he had never thought his life would be boring he never believed it would be quite this… exciting.

A few hours later as he prepared to return to work (Aurors never stopped) something in his subconscious twinged guiltily but once again his brain was swimming in too much denial to notice.

Across the pond the denied subject of his guilt was angry, truly angry. The rarity of this occasion perhaps emphasised how truly awful the situation he had just found himself in was. He had been angry at Leta for a long time and angry at the universe for far longer but right now his anger greatly encompassed anything he had ever felt before and those who felt the brunt of it would never have seen it coming. Yes he was a sixteen year old boy, one who had been expelled from school before he actually had any qualifications but he was also a young man with a caring heart who had just witnessed a completely despicable act and knew exactly what to do about it.

' _camp; 2 tents, 4 men, target in middle help_ '

He could see them but they were entirely unaware of him. Newt wasn't entirely sure if it was because they were still basking the glory of their latest catch or because they just weren't expecting to see him, whatever it was they would come to regret this moment of ignorance he was going to make sure of it.

The poor thing hadn't even been doing anything, neither of them had. For goodness sake what exactly could a unicorn foal have been doing that justified it being ripped from the body of its dead mother. Newt would never get the sound of its cries out of his ears for as long as he lived. Yes he cared for all creatures but unicorns… the literal embodiment of purity and these bastards thought they had the right to so cruelly destroy that. Even the most idiotic of wizards out there understood you didn't harm unicorns and those with even an inkling of morality would at least refrain from then capturing and torturing a unicorn foal. But no of course not because that would also imply intelligence, something the four men laughing and slapping each others backs in the middle of the grove clearly wouldn't understand.

' _High noon-sunlight in eyes-_ '

In his anger Newt could barely control his writing as he attempted to plan the foal's rescue on his arm. Sitting thirty feet away from them he had a clear view of the jeering men now shoving the desperate creature between them and by god was he going to make them pay for this.

' _Midnight, stun, run or…_ '

No he couldn't hurt them really, however much he wanted to, however much they deserved to be hurt he was not going to become like them. He was going to do exactly as he planned and get that poor thing out of there as soon as possible. Securing his case with a few charms he clutched his wand tightly in his fist and settled down behind the bushes to wait. He may be angry but as used to stalking creatures as he already was, he was also patient, very patient.


	9. Chapter 9- Not exactly legal

The darkness was stifling, the moon had clouded over and judging by their heavy breathing the men had fallen asleep hours ago. The only sounds in the glade now were the occasional whimpers of the young foal and the loud ticking of his pocket watch, charmed to adapt to every timezone (yet another present from Theseus. Actually he was pretty sure that if the thudding of his heart increased any more the sheer volume of the noise would wake the men up.

Shuffling sideways ever so slightly in order to get a better view, Newt re-checked his watch. It was nearly time, would he actually be able to do this?

Glancing again at the foal, currently unable to stand after extensive torment, he decided it wasn't a matter of if he could save her but when. And of course the answer to that was now. Standing strong he crept forward, determinedly ignoring the visible tremors in his hands as his mind focussed on helping the injured creature before him.

Bert groaned and pulled his coat further over his ears in an attempt to escape from the crashing he could hear, strangely in time with the pounding in his head that he recognised as a memoir of the really good ale he had the night before. Speaking of where was he? Last he remembered was Gary grinning wickedly as they and Billy kicked the hell out of some weak thing they had found in the forest. Oh yeah and the unicorn blood they took! They hadn't really meant to kill the stupid thing but when they did they weren't just gonna leave it whole, that stuff could fetch 'em a pretty penny from the right people. Cor did Bert know some people. Wait what was happening again? His head was still aching but the crashing was closer now and… and nah he didn't know what that was. Someone talking? Sounded like a boy actually, the hell was a boy doing out here and why wasn't Toby doing anything 'bout it? Suddenly Bert was on his back which was odd because he didn't do that. Mebbe the boy did it, yeah the really angry looking twiggy ginger thing that seemed to be trying to talk to him. Musta been him huh. The last thing Bert remembered was the angry glare stick-boy gave him, which came behind the realisation that he been muttering to himself the whole time. Huh.

"STUPEFY"

Newt smiled grimly to himself and wiped his hand on his trousers in satisfaction. He'd got the four men pretty quickly, only one of them having woken up though he didn't seem much inclined to do anything about the fact a stranger was knocking out his friends. Come to think about it perhaps 'woken up was a bit kind'. He also didn't really need to stun the man from such close range but the callousness of his words has pissed Newt off more than a little. That'd teach the bastard to hurt innocent creatures, especially ones far purer then himself.

"Hey sweetheart" he cooed as he walked gently towards the crude cage in the middle of the clearing

"Hey come on, I'm not going to hurt you" he fumbled about looking for the door, quickly finding and releasing the latch. He knew unicorns didn't usually like males but she was only a baby and "Oh!"

Despite her broken leg she'd moved forward as much as possible and instantly started nudging her tiny, delicate head into his hand. "Oh it's okay now darling, you really are quite lovely aren't you? Such a pretty thing, what do you think I should call you eh?" Continuing to mutter to the foal in a comforting manner he scooped her up carefully in his jacketed and turned back towards his case, already considering the habitat and foods she would most likely need. Actually he had no idea, what on earth did unicorns eat?

"You know don't you darling, what do you want to eat? I've got plenty of food" he said as he opened the lid of his suitcase and climbed down the ladder precariously. "Give me something here, I don't know what to do with you little one." The foal merely whined and nuzzled the underside of his chin before curling tighter in his arms and proceeding to fall asleep. "Well that…wasn't helpful" he sighed placing the tiny, golden creature on his bed and beginning to rummage through the few healing salves and potions he had collected so far.

Newt knew it would be relatively easy to splint her leg and possibly attempt a few healing spells but that could take a while and he just didn't know how to care for in general. Perhaps Theseus would know or be able to find out a little more but he didn't have the time to write a letter at the moment in case the campers woke up soon. Grabbing his now every-present pen he scribbled a quick note on his arm before turning to check his potions cabinet.

' _Done! –men gone-out for how long?_ '

' _Ask T about unicorns-name her?_ '

' _need more supplies-bedding also_ '

Ah and there we go! He knew he still had some of his best potion left, though there really wasn't much so he supposed he'd better get some more soon. For now though she was only little and some of her cuts looked like they could turn really nasty if he didn't do something about them quickly.

Careful not to wake her, he rearranged her limbs gently on top of his bedcovers in order to be able to see her injuries better and yeah that hind leg would definitely need splinting. "Sorry this might hurt little one." He whispered as he slowly lifted her hoof and pressed a long stick against the clear break, wrapping stiff bandages around it and sealing them with a spell to ensure they stayed there. He might be relatively good at healing spells but he wasn't sure he quite wanted to risk it on a creature as young as her.

After he finished cleaning and binding her Newt figured he'd better apparate to a different part of the country just to make sure he couldn't be found. With vague memories of a previous trip to Wales in his mind he stepped out of the suitcase, closed the lid and appeared somewhere in the middle of the Brecon Beacons. There that should do it! Feeling mildly pleased with himself he returned to his room and sat next to the foal before pulling out a sheet of parchment and beginning his letter to Theseus.

Or at least he would have written a letter if his arm hadn't started itching strangely. "What on earth?" He muttered as he pulled his sleeve up to examine the afflicted area only to freeze in shock "Oh Merlin!"

' ** _Whatever it is you're doing it doesn't seem entirely legal_** ''


	10. Chapter 10- First Contact

Percival was once again at work and once again desperately attempting to ignore the writing he could feel crawling up his arm. It was a good thing he had been given a single desk in the corner of the room (which may or may not have been because he scared off anyone who tried to sit with him in less than two weeks) as it offered a slightly secluded place for him to be able to read the messages. Not that he was going to of course, because he was an auror and he had a job to do. And that was one of his most repeated phrases at the moment damn it.

Percival sighed, dropping his head into his hands. I mean really what harm could it do? He didn't actually have much to do at the moment and if he didn't look then surely he would just continue to be distracted. Feeling quite pleased with himself at this line of reasoning he carefully rolled up his sleeve.

No wait, what the hell? What exactly did ' _4 men_ ' and ' _target in middle mean_ ', who the hell was this person? Looks like this might actually be his business after all because someone somewhere was clearly about to do something wrong. Which he realised was a rather vague statement and could really be said at any time. He also didn't think that his boss would appreciate him skipping work because 'someone, somewhere is doing something wrong.' Yeah great excuse Percival good job, might as well fire himself now.

Shaking his head to clear it of these unwanted thoughts he picked up his pen, determined to finish his weekly paperwork before the end of the day. He made it through approximately four more pages of bureaucratic nonsense before his arm once again began to itch irritatingly. It didn't matter though he wasn't going to look at it, Percival was going to keep his head down and focus on his work and "Damn it!" Almost ripping his shirt in his frustration he yanked his sleeve up and craned his head to look at the words beneath. Oh great now his soulmate this absolute idiot he was connected to for no reason was going about stunning people. That was absolutely wonderful and of course so very legal. Gathering his last vestiges of resolve the frustrated Auror scooped up his coat and marched off to clear his head with some coffee.

Later, sitting in the corner of his favourite no-maj café Percival was gathering even more looks than usual and that was saying something. Usually (though he didn't admit it) it was because of the attractive image he portrayed but today it was likely more to do with the fact that he was hunched over in the corner and muttering to himself. Truthfully he had fully intended to do his best to ignore this… problem but it clearly wasn't going away anytime soon, it was distracting at best and now they (whoever they were) had apparently knocked some men out and somehow acquired a unicorn?

Right that was it. He just couldn't do it anymore. He was supposed to uphold the law, not just turn a blind eye when a most likely underage wizard went around stunning people and stealing magical creatures. So it was then, squashed in a dingy no-maj café a week before the Great War that Percival Graves finally made contact with Newt Scamander.

' ** _Whatever it is you're doing it doesn't seem entirely legal_** '

Oh. Oh damn. He wasn't supposed to do that, he'd never thought he'd do that. For many years he didn't even think he'd have a reason to do that because he'd never wanted a soulmate. Of course he still doesn't want a soulmate, never has and never will. He'd just been brought up with strict morals and couldn't ignore the fact that someone was breaking the law that was all. Nothing to do with the heavy guilt he still felt over his soulmates their obvious pain when they first started writing, absolutely nothing to do with the small bubble of loneliness he often felt, just an auror upholding the law.

Percival sighed and uncapped his pen again; whatever his reason for starting to talk to his soulmate them it had been twenty minutes and they still hadn't replied, he at least couldn't deny the fact that he was ever so slightly worried about them. After all whatever their reasons for participating in illegal activities there was a good chance they had been hurt and despite his definite lack of affection for them he didn't necessarily want that.

' _ **Hello? I know you're there.**_ '

Meanwhile a small unicorn on the other side of the world was puzzled. She had been hurt and frightened but then the nice boy with the soft voice had found her and then she was safe and warm and asleep. Now though she had woken up and her leg was stiff and the boy was stiff and she called but he wouldn't come. Whining she dragged herself close to him and nuzzled into his hand, relieved as he seemed to come out his stupor. She liked the nice boy.

"Oh uh h-h-hi little one, what was I doing?" Newt mumbled before remembering what had shocked him so. That couldn't be possible, he didn't have a soulmate, he'd been writing on his arm for months now. And he'd been writing such stupid little things, assuming they'd been seeing what he'd put all along what in Merlin's name must they think of him?! On the other hand if they'd seen what he'd put all along why hadn't they replied? He'd never got any kind of message and they didn't seem surprised at the fact he existed so they must have been older then him. Glancing down at the new words curling themselves over his hand just confirmed this. So why hadn't they ever said anything? Though he could see their concern in the writing they weren't concerned for him but instead for the fact he may have just committed a crime. Why? He knew he wasn't the most social of people, nor the most normal but soulmates were supposed to be your other half. Before he'd given up hope of having a mate he'd always been excited about the fact that someone out there would like him for who he truly was but obviously this person didn't want him if they'd refrained from communicating with him for so long.

' _Why?_ '

Percival sighed with relief; at least his soulmate they still appeared to be alright after whatever it is they had done.

' _ **Why what?**_ '

' _Why do you know I'm here?_ '


	11. Chapter 11- There and back again

_**I'm not entirely sure what you mean by that...'**_

 _'Well why did you know I was here but I didn't know you were here.'_

 _'Why haven't you talked to me?'_

Percival groaned and shook his head, he didn't know how to explain his reasoning, hell he didn't even know what his reasoning was. Whatever came of it a café was not the right place to have this discussion and his lunch break was almost over.

 _ **'I'm sorry but I have to get back to work, I promise to explain it to you later though.'**_

Whatever he really thought he understood it wouldn't be fair now to just stop contacting them, at least without telling them why.

 _'Right. Also just so you know the whole 'not entirely legal' thing was because I came across a group of men torturing a unicorn foal and I stopped them. So make of that what you will.'_

A dozen coffees, many strange looks and at least four reprimands later Percival was finally ready to address the situation he'd gotten himself into. Honestly he hadn't really meant to reply it had just sort of happened. And now he was quite possibly freaking out slightly...

For some reason, even though messages had been appearing on his arm for months now it hadn't seemed real because for as long as he failed to reply Percival could continue to deny his soulmates existence. Maybe this poor fool was stuck with him but he sure as hell wasn't going to be tied to anyone. Ever.

Until he then went and ruined it. By replying. Goddamn. Percival may have not made many mistakes in his life but when he did he stood up and admitted them. That was just who he was and this quality was one of the many reasons that some Aurors over ten years his senior admired him.

So now here he was, alone in his apartment but with a straight back and a firm hand and the determination to admit to his wrongdoings. Because he could see now that what he had done was wrong.

 _ **'It wasn't fair to you.'**_

 ** _ **'I had my reasons but I understand now that it wasn't fair to you.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'I've never wanted to be connected to another person like this and when it happened I was furious and in denial. Strong denial. Absolutely vehement denial.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'Anyway my point is that whatever I wanted, whatever I believed I perhaps should have explained it to you first.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'I'm 22 and I've been perfectly happy without a soulmate. Honestly I've truly never wanted one, I have ambitions and plans and I'm sorry to say that you, whoever you are, do not fit in.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'I suppose I didn't really think you'd mind too much if I didn't reply and after a while I just assumed you'd forgotten about me, or rather the possibility of my existence.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'Though I have to say you write on your arm an abnormal amount for someone who doesn't believe they are soulbonded.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'So yes, I'm sorry but I hope you understand I don't want a partner in the foreseeable future, romantic or otherwise.'**_** ****

 ** _ **'Goodbye.'**_** ****

 _'Oh'_

 _'Well it was... nice to meet you I guess'_

Percival swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he read and re-read the ten words his soulmate, the person who was no longer his problem, had sent in reply. They were just so damn **polite**. He'd ignored them for months before outright rejecting them and they hadn't argued or complained, if anything they'd seemed accepting. However he knew from the previous messages how desperate they had been and despite the fact he'd always known he wouldn't be able to have a soulmate he couldn't seem to let go of the sick feeling in his heart.

* * *

Once again Newt found himself in a position of utter despair. He'd had hope! He'd had a chance at happiness but as per usual with his life nothing had gone to plan. Fate and the Universe and bloody Destiny had clearly got something wrong because his supposed soulmate **didn't want him**.

Within the space of a mere few hours Newt had gone from destined to be alone to soulbonded to well and truly rejected. By his supposed other half of all things! He'd managed to cope when he didn't think he had anyone but what was he supposed to do now? The human being who had been made for him wanted absolutely nothing to do with him and he couldn't cope.

No wait, he could. You know what, as proved, Newt was not made to be among the human race and if that was so then he was going. Properly going, to India and Africa and anywhere in the world where there were muggle or magical animals. Sod the war, sod his soulmate and sod everyone he had ever met. Newt is not a people person, Newt is a creature person.

Rubbing the aching hole in his chest he smoothed the soft golden coat of the unicorn (newly dubbed Annabeth) down and curled in on himself, covering his face with his arm. Tomorrow he would plan, tomorrow he would gather supplies and tomorrow he would go out into the world. Today however he thought he deserved a rest as his misery rose and badly-suppressed sobs began to wrack his body.

He was warm and nice but he was sad. Why was the boy sad? The world was heaving and her head was wet and her hooves hurt but none of that mattered because her boy was sad. She had been sad and her mother had been sad and then she had been scared and her mother was gone. He didn't deserve to be sad like that and she was going to make him happy.

It was then that for a split second the world stopped turning and the sun shone a little brighter as fate made up her mind. Newton Artemis Scamander was going to get the chance of a lifetime and Percival Graves was going to realise his mistake. The whole universe was rewritten because of the decision of one tiny, delicate unicorn foal


	12. Chapter 12- So it begins (again)

He wasn't supposed to be here. It was January 1916 and Percival Graves was at war. Well in a war, maybe somewhere near a war. To be honest he was a bit lost but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Percival may be here (wherever here was) but he wasn't technically allowed to be. America wasn't at war and wizards were apparently abstaining so far but the earth was screaming and Percival was listening.

A lot of people were listening in fact but mostly to the government. A government that was currently refusing to acknowledge the war, maybe in the hopes that the 'problem' would just go away for all Percival knew. Most governments were currently strongly against wizarding involvement in the war due to fear of potential discovery. Something which MACUSA did know a lot about, though luckily they hadn't gone too far yet in their efforts to remain undiscovered and out of the war. Mostly because No-Maj America had yet to get involved so they and the rest of the country seemed to believe they had nothing to worry about.

The British Ministry of Magic however had outright forbidden wizards and witches from getting involved but many of their citizens were getting desperate. This wasn't helped by the fact the British Muggle government seemed to be on the verge of announcing conscription. The Auror department and even those higher up had received so many please for assistance that it was rumoured MACUSA was seriously considering changing its whole stance on the war, if for nothing but to shut them up.

Percival on the other hand was sick of it all, out there in Europe people weren't just listening, they too were screaming. Mothers were crying and their children were dying and no-one was doing anything about it. So he left. Well technically he was on a year long period of extended leave because of an extreme family emergency, he could be very persuasive when he wanted to, but that wasn't the point. He'd just gotten one desperate letter too many and now he was lost. Well not quite lost as he did know roughly where he was, which was somewhere near Kut-al-Amara. Probably.

All he knew was it was dark and smoky and he could hear the shouts and cries of the wounded, the stench of wet mud, explosives and rotting flesh surrounding him. Percival was definitely on a battle field because he was scared, a very rare occasion. The incessant gunfire didn't seem to be helping his nerves much either. He needed to find British wizards, heck he needed to find the British front.

The weary young man shifted his stance, gingerly lifting his once shiny boots out of the pile of mud and er... not mud beneath him, as he attempted to look around.

The thick air surrounding him was making his arms itch in an eerily familiar way. The memories he had been supressing for over a year now were climbing back to the surface and he really didn't want to think about his possibly 17-year old soulmate when he was in the middle of a warzone.

Though since he knew nothing of their gender or whereabouts, in a time like this there was a good chance they too were in a warzone. Or already dead. NO! No, he wasn't going to think like that, he would know if they were gone he was sure of it.

Brushing his hand over his face Percival sighed, to be honest with the way this war was going he knew his soulmate was going to have to be involved at some point.

Suddenly a thin, reedy wail cut through the smog, quickly followed by a series of red and green flashes that had Percival off and running before he knew it. Even in the midst of a battlefield a baby's panicked cry was unmistakeable. And no strange No-Maj chemicals could account for the faint shout of "Avada Kedavra".

As Percival sprinted further from the front and out towards the carnage left behind the source of the sound could be seen as a tiny, battered village came into view. Someone must have thought they'd be safe from troops of both sides in an area that had already been destroyed and so was unusable. Maybe this daring plan would've worked if the refugees hadn't been found by wizards, likely with seeking charms.

Skidding to a stop Percival attempted to assess the situation as he panted for breath. Cowering on their knees were three small and clearly terrified teenagers, the oldest of whom at about 16 or 17 was desperately clutching a whining infant to his chest. However the worst part of this situation had yet to come as Percival realised when he looked up and discovered the reason for the children's fright was now striding around the opposite corner of the derelict building he was crouched behind.

Six reasons to be exact and each and every one of them with their wands now levelled at the kids heads.

'We got your momma boys' sneered the one out front. Percival presumed the man, with his short blonde hair and arrogant expression, was the leader. It was with a shock he noticed Grindlewald's symbol hanging around the guys neck at the same time he picked up on the slight Eastern-European accent.

His thoughts were then interrupted as the youngest boy lifted his dark and battered head to spit on the mans boots, growling a few words in a language unrecognisable to Percival. Judging by the leaders expression however it was an insult.

Well shit. There may only be one of him but he was not prepared to let a child die, not on his watch. He whipped round the corner, wand outstretched, just as the blonde-headed idiot opened his mouth.

"PROTEGO"

A wild grin danced across Percival's as he jumped in front of the teens, pushing the small one to the side just in time. He may be good at magic but even his shield spell wasn't strong enough to protect against the killing curse that had been cast his way.

"Run" He hissed out of the corner of his mouth before turning to the gang of idiots before him.

"So, up for a duel then?"

They stood for a second, a row of confused faces before a stocky guy towards the back of the group regained his wits (however little they were)

"An American? What the fuck are you doing here?" His English seemed worse than the leaders but he clearly knew enough to have heard what he said to the kids and his tone had Percival readying himself for the fight of a lifetime.

"Actually that's just what I was wondering." Came a distinctly British voice from behind Percival. Shit. His plans to turn and face the new potential threat were cut short when a lone ginger-headed man appeared next to him. Seemingly ignoring the six very angry wizards in front of them he turned to Percival and stuck out his hand, his freckled face split in half by a beaming grin.

"Hello old chap, the name's Scamander. And you are?"


	13. Chapter 13- Dragons

It was February 1916 and Newt was on fire. Literally.

Perhaps it wasn't the best start to the day but strangely enough a screaming, flaming wizard was a sight that had become quite commonplace in the last few months.

The war had come and despite his youth, or perhaps because of it, Newt had found himself swept along in the terror of it all.

He may be very obviously underage with his long gangly limbs and awkward gait (and in fact banned entirely from participating along with the rest of the magical population of his country) but Newt had always been resourceful. His youthful looks were less likely to hinder him in a war that was quickly becoming indiscriminate of race, age and gender.

He'd even managed to get himself into a position that suited everyone involved. To be fair though that position was in fact the main reason he was currently more than a little singed.

Honestly he still wasn't sure how he got here. He was kicked out of Hogwarts with nothing to his name, barely knew what he was doing and only knew he wanted to go exploring. To top all of that he'd been rejected by the one person on this earth who was supposed to fully accept him, his other half.

A whirlwind of rage and despair Newt wasn't really sure what to do. At first he'd found a few English creatures but not much was happening and he didn't know what to do and everything was just so confusing. He'd thought for sure that he'd soon be stuck back with his parents with less than he'd started with.

Yet out of the mess that was his life, and despite the fact he'd been beaten down to the very ground, he'd built himself back up again and somehow managed to come out on top.

In the process he'd even managed to achieve one of his biggest dreams, dragons.

During his sort-of-sabbatical he'd had the wonderful opportunity to study many creatures, muggle and magical alike, but he'd always, always wanted to see a dragon and had never before had the chance.

He was still a bit unsure of the reality of it all.

Four months ago, during the search he'd managed to take overseas with the war, he'd just happened to stumble upon them, however disbelieving they were of that fact.

Theseus liked to say he that he was a bit of a troublemaker but Newt was pretty sure it wasn't his fault, clearly the trouble followed him. Either way he did often find himself in a bit of a pickle, as was the case on this occasion.

Pursuing his internal monologue along that train of though Newt faintly wondered what had happened to Theseus, he hadn't heard from him in a while and Theseus tended to be rather strict about keeping in contact due to the constant er... trouble. On the other hand what he had heard was rumours and lots of them. Apparently minor battles were suddenly tipping in the Allies favour up and down the east coast. Witness reports had described things ranging from 'an entire avenging army descending upon them' to 'two rather odd fellows with capes and mad eyes, brandishing fireworks!' depending upon who you talked to.

Either way British magical authorities were sure a certain Scamander was at the heart of it. And since that clearly wasn't him it had to be Theseus, hence the lack of communication.

Back to his current situation however, he really had found them by pure chance. He'd been tracking a Demiguise he was sure was nearby when he'd heard shouting and seen copious amounts of smoke, the likes of which he'd never seen before. Of course, being Newt, he'd turned and eagerly headed in that direction.

Upon arrival he'd badly startled a group of four wizards who he'd later learned were part of a covert force of western wizards attempting to train dragons, badly, in order to help with the war effort.

They originally weren't keen on the idea of some unknown youngster who they had never seen before joining them. That had soon changed however when he'd fearlessly walked up to the dragon they were manhandling and managed to calm the raging, overprotective mother down simply by talking to her.

It had taken a while since then but Newt could now proudly say that he was the riding partner of one of the most ferocious Ukrainian Iron bellies ever seen.

And what a beast she was! Weighing in at approximately six tonnes she was one of the largest Iron bellies ever recorded. Her blood red eyes shone with feral excitement when she flew and any who approached her hatchlings would find themselves face to face with her fearsome anger. However her huge size and vicious talons contrasted sharply with the care she showed her young, and strangely enough Newt.

Dragons were untameable, independent creatures but they were also fiercely loyal when it came to family and that was clearly what he had become to her.

Somehow he'd done it. Really properly done it! In the space of a mere few months he'd completely changed his life around and was managing to learn more than ever before while he was at it.

And he was happy, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. Newt would even dare to say he was as happy as he had been when he had first set eyes on Hogwarts, before his life was turned upside down.

In a way he wished he could be making as big an impact on the endless bloodshed as Theseus was but that just wasn't how Newt was. He was too fond of his work now and too unsure of his meagre duelling abilities to even consider fighting the way Theseus would.

This here, with his dragons and his friends and his job, _this_ was important. Whatever the impact on the war this close working relationship with dragons could become something, could mould the future if he allowed it. Perhaps Newt was being too optimistic but at least some good was coming out of this bloody awful war. Never before had wizards dared to work with a creature they classified so dangerous, and perhaps it was for terrible reasons and nothing was yet certain but they were _getting_ somewhere.

It was then and there, rolling in the dirt of some far eastern country in a world in turmoil that Newt Scamander made a solemn vow. He may not be able to help right now but once this war was over, he was going to get out there and he was going to make the world a better place, for humans, muggles and creatures alike.

He was going to do more then study creatures, he was going to help them and fix them and save them. As Annabeth had proved creatures were often far purer then humans. They didn't have thoughts and motives and guns they were just instinct, they just fed and bred and _lived_.

If anyone had the potential to get cynical beings such as wizards to live in harmony with those they deemed beneath them, it was the boy man raised among hippogriffs.


	14. Chapter 14- Allies

They were making an impact, that was one thing Percival was certain of. Despite their lack of plan and Theseus' madcap tendency to launch himself at person he deemed evil they were definitely making an impact.

The exact nature of this impact however was hard to determine. While they were turning into something of a ghost story for muggles fighting for the central powers they weren't really doing much damage on a large scale. They had turned a few battles at the last minute but that was mostly through luck and as already mentioned, Theseus' idiocy. Annoyingly powerful idiocy.

"Oi Scamander!"

"Yes dear?" The ginger wizard lifted his head from his bowl and grinned, while batting his eyelashes at his almost-friend.

Constantly fighting back to back with a man for months gave you a strong relationship, regardless of who the man was. The two actually knew very little about each other's personal lives, much of their time was taken up by fighting, recovery, placating the politicians in their respective homelands and then more fighting. Unsurprisingly it was all rather hectic and they didn't have time to talk much even thought they were sharing a tent.

"Where are we heading next?"

Theseus' face turned almost thoughtful for a moment (as if anything could actually happen in that lunatic's head) before a grin split his face. Seriously a full on wide, toothy smile. In wartime. Who even does that? "I heard about some dragons a little further east. Wanna go take a look?"

Percival felt a distinct spike of alarm at those words, dragons in anyone's hands could do serious damage. "Wait, how? And even if we do find them how are we going to stop dragons?"

"Oh don't worry you stodgy git, they're our dragons, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Coming from the mouth of the wizard whose favourite trick was to apparate behind their own sentries and shout boo, this somehow wasn't reassuring.

"If they're ours, why do we need to check on them? Don't we have a more pressing problem to be getting on with, like you know a _war_ "

Standing up and stretching his lanky legs the (irritatingly) taller wizard replied "You know that's probably the longest sentence you've said to me in the whole six months we've been fighting together."

Deciding not to deign that remark with a reply Percival merely glared at him.

"See old chap, now you're just proving my point."

Rolling his eyes the american gestured to the camped muggles surrounding them. "I thought we were following them, not go gallivanting off to find dragons."

"And there you go again, talking. You know if you keep doing that people are going to get the wrong idea."

"Just answer the question!"

The brief flash of seriousness across Theseus' face was enough to give Percival a moments pause.

"I want to find my brother."

Despite the lack of communication between the two, when Theseus did talk it was mostly about his younger brother. He was clearly very protective as he wouldn't tell Percival any detailed information though he often spent hours regaling others with tales of his brothers misadventures. Theseus claimed that much like his own stupid urge to jump in front of any unarmed person, the younger Scamander would go even further for any creature. Percival at this point knew for sure that the whole family must be crazy so he was only somewhat shocked by this information.

Focusing his attention back on his friend's nonsensical statement Percival opened his mouth to argue his point. Before he could get there however a caw sounded out and a whooshing of air could be heard as some overly large and invisible flying creature landed on the ground next to their campfire, it's hooves (what even) creating deep imprints in the mud.

Grinning as if he'd just been proven right, Theseus reached out with his wand and tapped the what appeared to be the air before stepping back and bowing as a hippogriff materialised before them.

"Ben!" The ginger idiot exclaimed as Percival normally stoic face actually began to show signs of confusion.

"Mother did say he'd taken you but I didn't realise you were in training to be an owl now."

Right. Okay. So someone had taken Theseus' mother's hippogriff (clearly a whole different story Percival didn't feel exploring right now) disillusioned the animal, stuck a letter to it's back and made it fly however many miles through a continent at war just to deliver a message? This must be the brother.

While Percival had been having a minor inward meltdown Theseus must have been busy because their tent was already rolled and ready to go and he was was in the process of... mounting the hippogriff?

"Oh hell no." He couldn't hold his disbelief in any longer. "I am not getting on that, I do not want to find dragons, what are we even doing?!"

"Last I checked old chap, we were fighting a war." And here his tone became unusually serious "You know the way this war is going Percy-"

"Don't call me that!"

"We'll be lucky if we finish this by the end of 1917 at this rate."

The dark-haired wizard flung up his hands "What has that got to do with dragons?"

His friend gave him a grim smile. "Dragons can be trained to fight for us. Trust me, if anyone can do it, it's Newt"

Percival's brain momentarily sidetracked "Your family has odd names."

Reaching for the collar of Percival's jacket Theseus chuckled quickly "His middle name's Artemis."

Seeing that for the show of trust it was, the grumpy wizard allowed himself to be dragged onto the hippogriff's muscled back. "I still don't understand why we're going."

"Because for now, we're the best coordinators our countries have got with this war. Let's go at least take a look eh?"

With that Theseus stowed his wand away and gently kicked the large one-again-invisible flank of the animal they were currently astride.

A squawk came once more as the animal trotted a few steps before flying off into the night, two men hanging on its back.

A few seconds later however, "Theseus?"

"Yes old chap?"

"You know we aren't currently disillusioned, right?"

The ginger wizard started, glancing down at the lone sentry in their area whose eyes were glazed over and mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

"Bollocks!" He exclaimed, urging the powerful beast further into the mist. "Bloody well do something about it then, before he wakes everyone else up!"

Percival would have snickered but that might ruin his image so instead he got his wand out grinning and tapped the two of them on the head, shivering as he felt the familiar charm take effect.


	15. Chapter 15- It's a long, long road

(A/N For those wondering about the massive (for me) update all at once I'm just importing it over from ao3, if you want more frequent updates (like every two months instead of two years) go check it out over there))

It'll be fine he said, they're just dragons he said, just good little tiny dragons on our side he said...

"THESEUSSS!"

* * *

He'd known the flight had been too quiet. Unfortunately he'd allowed himself to be drawn in, after that first mishap of "Floating men sir! Straddling the air they was too sir!" it had just seemed so peaceful.

Even the stars had been out then, glittering brightly in an otherwise smoke-blackened sky. Theseus was mercifully silent and the thick clouds below almost allowed him to momentarily forget the carnage surrounding them in every direction.

Of course in a time such as this and with a man such as Theseus Scamander the illusion of calm was doomed from the very moment it entered Percival's wistful head. Something he regretted not realising sooner as the great roaring of a beast of unimaginable proportions grew closer and closer while the screams of the men below took on an unearthly tone.

"Theseus" he warned in a low voice, able to see the idiot's grin through the back of his head. Fighting side by side with someone for months gave you the thrilling opportunity to thoroughly disapprove of their plans before they actually happened.

"Yes Percy dear?" The madman returned in a deceptively sweet voice as he pulled the rough wool of his overcoat tighter around his torso, clearly bracing himself for some horrible thing Percival really didn't want to be a part of.

"Don't you dare."

The only reply offered was a wild grin shot back over a broad shoulder as with a slight nudge the brave and desperately panting hippogriff, otherwise known as Ben, was diving down toward the heart of the battle.

* * *

Percival still wasn't quite sure how but the following chaos somehow led to him soaking wet, furiously screaming his brother-in-arms' name and most importantly dangling upside down from the long vicious claws of a huge, grey-scaled, red-eyed beast.

Through the strange mix of motion sickness and anger he did still have just enough of his senses to notice that not only did the giant heaving dragon seem less inclined to rip his head of with it's teeth than he had anticipated it did also appear to be wearing a saddle and potentially steering away from the worst of the fight.

A few minutes of curses, screams and maniacal laughter (no guesses where that came from), barely heard over the rushing in his ears, later the beast touched down and, dare he say, gently lowered him to the ground.

Rounding on the nearest visible head of ginger hair Percival allowed the built-up fury he'd repressed over far too long of fighting a war that should never have happened for a No-Maj government who didn't know he existed all the while watching innocents die, on the poor startled soul in front of him.

"Theseus!" He felt his own face contort into a twisted mixture of all the emotion he never normally allowed himself to feel, let alone show, as he stepped menacingly toward the smoke-hazy figure in front of him.

"This is a damn battlefield! Men are dying, good men, on both sides and you somehow feel in the midst of all this horror that is it appropriate to tease me with ridiculous games that could get us as well as countless others killed!"

"Wow old chap."

Came an oh-so-familiar voice from behind him as Percival's neck prickled with a dawning sense of horror.

"I suppose that's one way to thank the man who just saved your sorry life."

Spinning on once-polished heels the usually stoic man cringed both inwardly and outwardly in the face of the unusually grim figure before him.

Carefully dismounting the stooped and swaying hippogriff after whispering a quiet word of thanks, Theseus stepped before him seeming oddly sterner than ever before.

"Did you ever think, Graves-"

And here the lack of almost-instant ridiculous nicknames between them was showing the seriousness of Percival's situation. There was something that he was missing...

"Did you maybe just think for one second that in all of this _horror_ as you so aptly pointed out that I - no we - needed this joking because I can guarantee you that without it we'd _all_ be shouting our heads off at this point."

At this point Percival's slack jaw had had less to do with Theseus' grand speech and more to do with the dawning realisation that was currently occurring in his brain, shutting off all other function.

The footsteps to the side that he'd been faintly aware of throughout became clearer then as they stopped hesitantly behind him and a new (distinctly English) voice joined the conversation.

"Erm, hello?"

* * *

Newt for his part had merely been doing his job, fighting.

At eighteen years old and the only one in the whole initiative who had truly bonded with a dragon he was glad to discover that they actually needed him. This meant in the times that the war was desperate and they wanted a powerful destructive force to come out of nowhere and raze a whole enemy-controlled front to the ground, say a dragon perhaps, he could find the strength within himself to say no.

He was in a war and he was fighting and he was killing at such a young age, like the millions of others of his generation out there, but he was doing what he thought best and helping wherever he could.

This meant that instead of being that desperate eleventh-hour call he could do his own work, precision work. Generally focused on saving lives rather than destroying (and no-one needed to know if he had pulled almost as many Central Power's soldiers off the barbed wire as he had Allied). At this point he could apparate to four different places within a split-second, often leaving a diving dragon riderless in mid-air. Of course no-one needed to know that either.

Today however, today was a little bit different.

It hat started, as many thing's in Newt's life had up to this point, with Theseus.

Theseus Scamander the forbidden yet beloved war hero who saved lives, won battles and still managed to style his hair perfectly whenever another crazed Daily Prophet reporter risked death with their new-fangled camera for a photo of the handsome warrior. They say Theseus and his mysterious American partner had inspired such fear into their enemies that whole platoons could be seen cowering as Trojans before Achilles or ghostly Greeks before Aeneas.

So anyway, Theseus had sent a letter, Newt had sent a letter (and possibly a hippogriff) and now there was said American partner attempting to reverse his disillusion spell while falling angrily (yes he was that angry) through the air towards the dreaded gunfire below.

So Newt had done what he now did best, saved him. It was sort of instinct at this point and he could see that the shell he was about to subtly intercept had miraculously vanished, hopefully proving that his brother was somewhere nearby anyway.

Now Newt had gotten a lot of reactions from people he'd pulled out at the last minute and as a good portion of them were muggles he'd gotten used to the expected, horror, disbelief and blank-faced whiteness that came when they thought they had well and truly snapped. He had even got anger, especially from wizards and witches on the opposite side who'd often told him to politely mind his own business (he was picking up a lot of angry german swearwords at this point).

Never before had someone mistaken him to be his brother but even as he quivered a little, embarrassed about the fact that after two years at war an angry bloke shouting at him still scared him, he could see the humour in a situation he was usually on the other side of. So when the confused, and objectively handsome, stranger turned back to his brother to receive his own telling off the boy thought it would be only polite to intervene.


	16. 16- All the world will be your enemy

Well this was... a little awkward. Percival grimaced slightly as he considered the many ways he had bungled this meeting. Which was a lot. Obviously.

Good Lord. He finally has a chance to meet the infamous boy his comrade has been harping on about for weeks and he makes a complete fool of himself. An intelligent observer at that moment would have noticed the slight reddening of the bemused man's cheeks and the corresponding smirk quickly stifled by the one opposite. Since the only apparent observer however was, while intelligent, not prone to close study of of, shall we say, more 'human' subjects these subtle yet vitally important actions went unnoticed to all but one.

At that moment a large and scaly body shifted in displeasure, snorting a puff of amused smoke at her rider as two giant eyes rolled. In this case 'giant' is used to show both the sheer enormous size of Peggy the Ukranian Ironbelly and the extreme emotion that went into this physical action while she witnessed this odd and somewhat pathetic display.

Humans. Honestly, can they just not see how they appear to each other? And themselves even. Dragons, now there's a proper species. Dragons are just so much better in every way. Seeking to remind everyone of this, of course with no ulterior motives, she raised her head to let out a long puff of smoke.

Hmm, interesting. The way the new, shouty one jumped in front of the two nestlings definitely suggested something... though was still mildly offensive.

Percival was thoroughly annoyed at this point. He not only looked like a complete idiot there was now a giant fire breathing monster having a go at him. This was definitely not what he signed up for. The kid who looked like a slightly ganglier version of his partner twitched his lips at him awkwardly, "Sorry, Peggy can be a bit intimidating, especially to people who haven't seen a dragon before." Throughout the whole sentence he'd somehow managed to avoid eye contact entirely and was now staring at Percival's boots, his older brother's arm slung around his shoulders. Wait a second...

"I'm not intimidated by anything, thank you very much." Theseus' disbelieving snicker did nothing to remove the scowl slowly forming on Percival's face. That is until the boy ducked his head even further, a soft red blush forming on his cheeks.

"No, um, sorry of course not-"

"Stop, Newt right?, I'm the one who should be apologising and thanking you of course, I didn't mean to shout at you. Your brother takes far too much pleasure in my misery and now probably isn't a good time for such a thing." Percival smiled, a rare occurrence, and held out his hand for his saviour to shake.

Newt did so awkwardly, daring to lift his head slightly and meet the other's piercing gaze. "Um yes, Newt, Newt Scamander, nice to - er - meet you."

Theseus, who up until this point had been unusually quiet, broke in with "He means nice to save you of course old chap!" While giving his brother a backslap that practically pushed him headfirst into Percival.

Newt sent him a look that would have been a glare on anyone else but on him just looked more like a doeful stare before turning back to face Percival, smiling brightly as the older man steadied him. Shaking his head to clear it he realised he was still being addressed.

"Graves, Percival Graves. And did I just hear you refer to that" turning, he gestured at the giant fangs behind him "as Peggy?"

Newt lit up at that, "Ah yes, that's my friend Peggy, isn't she beautiful? Did you know Ukrainian Ironbelly's can reach up to 6 tonnes in weight and 60 feet in length? Peggy's nearly there on both accounts and she's and absolutely wonderful fighter, very protective of those she cares about as most dragons tend to be. Would you like to say hello to her? She's very friendly you really should, go on."

At that Percival, whose jaw had slowly been dropping further and further, blinked startled, "I don't think that would be a very good idea."

Theseus grinned "Oh no I think it would." Grabbing Percival's shoulder he forced him round to see the (very large) beast behind him. "Go on, I'm sure she's as much of a sweetheart as Newt says she is, he's normally a very good judge of an animal's character."

Oh normally. That's fine then, Percival was perfectly willing to bet his life on 'normally'. Ha. At that moment Newt walked up next to him, still beaming happily, obviously excited that someone actually wanted to meet one of his creature's. "Fine." Percival said, heck, he'd throw himself into the dragon's mouth if it kept that look on the kid's face at a time like this. "Fine."

Newt patted Peggy on the nose happily as she huffed warm air at him, glancing at Percival he nodded his head, signalling the other to do the same. Percival suppressed as a groan as his famed Graves scowl once again overtook his face. Might as well get it over with then. Raising his arm above his head, he gingerly reached forward to feel the rough, warm scales of the _giant dragon right in front of him_. Theseus, still cackling happily, nudged him and waved his hand, as if to say go on then.

Forehead still wrinkled in annoyance and no small amount of fear he did so, "Pleased to meet you... Peggy." And as he suspected, the delight on Newt's face was well worth the mild horror of _stroking_ a beast that could swallow him whole. Though he wasn't going to examine the reason why too closely. That could lead somewhere unpleasant after all.

"Anyway chaps!" Theseus was back at it again, "We should get of this battlefield for a bit of a rest, don't you think?" Typical British understatement because at that point, having flown most of the night on a (lumpy) hippogriff after solid days of fighting, Percival was feeling distinctly ready to collapse.

Newt, looking mildly uncomfortable at the thought, suggested they go back to his camp so he could introduce them to his fellow dragon-riders. Percival couldn't imagine why he wouldn't want people to meet a brother as... caring as Theseus. He decided against voicing that thought however because he was still within arms reach, he'd take the biggest dragon alive over a duel with Theseus Scamander any day. That isn't to say Graves wasn't on the same level as the elder Scamander brother but his skill was certainly nothing to laugh at. Not that he'd ever tell him that either.

At that point Newt leapt much more gracefully onto Peggy's back than Percival would have expected from the boy's usual awkward air, and offered them both a lift.

"NO!" At the startled flinch he got in reaction, Percival coughed shamefully. "Apologies, I'm a little tired of riding on various animal's backs. Point me in the right direction and I'll make it myself."

Theseus cocked an arrogant eyebrow in his direction before jumping equally as elegantly up behind his brother, their similarity made very apparent. "If you insist, Newt how do you start this thing?"

Newt pouted slightly "Peggy isn't a thing Theece" before patting the dragon gently and tightening his hold on her shimmering neck.

Mother of God that was some sight, Percival cocked his head back in awe as the fearsome downbeat of her wings pushed him forcefully backwards. Hey wait a second, "YOU DIDN'T TELL ME" and they'd disappeared, "where we're going." Scrubbing his hand over his face he adjusted his position and resolved to stay there until someone came back to find him. If he tried to get himself out of here now he'd probably just get himself lost or worse, killed.

A sudden crack by his side caused him to spin round, wand at the ready, and he had just enough time to catch a glimpse of ginger hair and a freckled face before their slight hand tightened on his coat sleeve and he was squeezed into the awful, rubbery tube that was side-along apparition.

(A/N

Shameless advertising: check out my lil poetry ebook

. /dp/B07NCNRCC7/ref=mp_s_a_1_fkmr2_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549236137&sr=8-1-fkmr2&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_QL65&keywords=winter+solstice+heather+rogers#immersive-view_1549236199625

Winter Solstice on Amazon for £1.50 or $1.92  
Sort of a test at the moment but please give it a try! :) )


End file.
